Green, Blue, and a Drop of Red
by RikaCain
Summary: /AU/ Alfred recognised three colours in his life - Alice's green, the ocean's blue and a drop of red. Drabble-istic.


A/N: This... is actually what I submitted for my end of year examinations. Yes, I wrote US/fem!UK for my narrative essay. Heavens, shoot me. The prompt was 'Green'.

I thought I was going to lose marks, but in the end? I got an A. The teacher is also going to use it as reference material in her next lessons.

What can I say? Hetalia rules the world.

Warnings: AU, fem!UK, pointless drabble over green (eyes) and Alfred being a tad possessive.

Disclaimer: APH, and its related franchise, do not belong to me.

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><p>Alfred had always liked the colour green.<p>

Green was the colour of the blades of grass bending beneath his bare feet; green was the colour of the traffic lights when they allowed you to go; green was the colour of the highlighter he used during his examinations that he always aced, every time.

Green was the colour of Alice's eyes.

If anyone else asked him what was his favourite colour, he would deny his liking for green and claim blue – blue was the sky, the pen he used during tests, the sea – but the sea was often blue-green – turquoise, they called it – so he supposed that he was not lying after all. The sea was also where he first met Alice, so he will not be picky about colours.

Of course, there were also many different shades of green. There was green mixed with other colours like yellow and blue to make interesting hues of green. There was viridian green which he often used to describe the forest behind his house. There was chatreuse green, which covered him and his bed when he slept, in the form of a blanket. There was a dull green hue that he forgot the name of, which came in the form of sweaters that Alice wore that brought out the shade of her eyes.

He, however, did not know how to describe her eyes.

They could light up and turn a shade of bright green; they could tilt a bit and catch the angled light, turning light green; they could burn acid green, like toxic poison when she was duly angered; or they could dull into a hue he forgot the name of when she was sad. He did not like the last one. He did not like being its cause, either.

When it came to emotions, however, Alfred hated green. He saw green when Alice bantered with Francis and Gabriel; when she laughed with Lukas and Kiku; when she got into an argument with Ludwig or Antonio. Of course, Alice did not have to know that; so whenever she looked over to him he would grin back and wave profusely. She would frown at him, her eyes narrowing and giving the impression of an annoyed cat before turning back to talk to Gabriel.

When she went near Ivan, however, he saw red.

Alfred abhorred red. Red was the colour that clashed horribly against green; red was the colour of the pen that marked many of his answers wrong; red was the colour of blood he never did like, be it on a finger or a torso.

Red was the colour of anger he could not control. Red was the colour reserved for Ivan, and Alice if she strayed too near. He had never liked Ivan – never did, and never will.

When he told Alice this, albeit in a harsh manner, she had snapped at him for being an 'immature, childish brat' and promptly told him to 'sod off'. He had shouted back, red always clouding his vision, and they would have a row that lasted for a month or so.

When the red faded and he saw her green eyes again, he went back.

It was always his green eyes, he mused, always her eyes. With one look, she could do so much. She could calm a crying child with soothing words and soft glances; she could stare someone (him) down with the amount of disdain over the individual's level of intelligence clearly conveyed; she could glare someone into submission with the threat of being skewered by a pole hidden behind her eyes. He once wondered what it would be like to pluck those green eyes out and keep them in a jar for only him to see.

He found it enthralling and revolting at the same time. He did not think of it again. He was not as sick as Ivan who tortured small animals. He was not.

So he contents himself by watching Alice's green eyes every day, and remembered wholeheartedly why he loves her. After all, he had always liked the colour green.

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><p>AN: I'm not too sure how is THAT relevant to 'green', but I'll take it all in stride. After all, the more points, the better, right?

And no, I don't hate Russia, I actually quite like him. But it was in the middle of exams and I couldn't think of anyone else, so Ivan it was.

Do review. I have a feeling I shouldn't really trust the teachers in my school anymore. Constructive criticism very much appreciated. Thank you.


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